You're Here
by Je suis Maene
Summary: "You were going through things, Christian. Getting in fights, stealing…it wasn't good."  I couldn't believe this. "And clearly you didn't care enough to stick around."


**Another one-shot! Three POV's this time! :D**

_**You're here **_

People streamed out from class, the teacher included, until only Christian and I remained. I relaced my shoes—it was the last class of the day, and I was going to practice.

"Worst. Class. Ever." I groaned to Christian. Once more, I had hip hop and once more, I felt even more behind.

"Are you staying behind to practice?" he looked up from the water fountain, wiping his mouth.

"Yeah. I'm sick of being at the bottom of the list." While I was climbing the rank in all my other classes, I remained at the bottom of the hip hop list. Still above Abigail, though.

"Want some help?" Christian pulled top of the list consistently.

"Sure, thanks," I smiled. I liked spending time with him.

For a few minutes, we worked on the dance we were doing, and after I flopped on the floor, exhausted, he half smiled—he never actually smiled—and starting doing flips—Christian was one of the four kids that had a solo in this dance.

"Stop showing off!" I laughed, tossing my ballet slipper at him.

"Want me to show you how to do _that?" _he smirked.

With an half anxious, half excited sigh, I agreed. Christian held my waist. "Ok, so just jump up and lean back.." I did, and he lifted me up, twisting me in air, setting me down on my feet.

"I don't think that counts.." I laughed.

We spent another ten minutes working on the dance, before we sat down in the corner for a break. While I was panting, Christian barely broke a sweat.

"How is this so easy for you?" I asked, exasperated.

He gave me an attempted sympathetic look, though if I didn't know him better I'd think he was just making faces. "Practice, I guess? You're good in ballet, though."

"Thanks," I said with a small smile.

"We should get back to practice," Christian said as he got up. Why does he keep doing that? He held out his hand to help me on my feet.

At once we both noticed someone in the doorway. I frowned. "Hello?"

My gaze flickered to Christian—his face was a mixture of animosity, surprise, and cold clarity. He knew him.

"Drew?"  
>Christian's brother.<p>

"That's Drew?" I whispered to Christian. He told me a lot about his brother, and I knew the enmity he held after Drew missed Christian's hearing last month, and refusing to help him. I couldn't say I blamed him—I'd be furious.

"Yes," he sighed and stayed at my side, but glared at his brother.

"Hey Christian," Drew smiled. He had the same intense, brown eyes as his brother. He looked like he was in his twenties or thirties.

"Yeah. Hi," he glared. Drew walked in, standing closer.

"So, how are you?" Did Drew _not _notice how upset his brother was? I knew they both had a rocky relationship, but Christian was obviously hurt. A few people stopped to look in the open door.

"Well, I nearly went to jail because I didn't have a decent character reference—I would have if Tara hadn't taken your place—" he tipped his head toward me "—because you didn't bother to show up."

"Christian, I was busy—"

"Too busy for your own brother," he scoffed.

"You were going through things, Christian. Getting in fights, stealing…it wasn't good."

Christian looked away for a moment but responded as soon as Drew finished. "And clearly you didn't care enough to stick around."

Drew looked offended. "I have a family to think about—"

"He _is _your family!" I blurted out suddenly, shocked at my own animosity towards Drew. People started trickling into the room.

"This doesn't involve you, so can you please get out," he said, angry. He didn't sound like it was question.

"You can't tell her what to do," Christian snapped. "Frankly she has a right to be here, she's done a lot more for me than you ever did."

Drew clearly was trying to relax himself. "So is she your girlfriend?" he asked cheerfully.

Christian _hated _when people changed the subject like that. His fists were clenched and his mouth in a tight line—tell tale signs he was about to get violent. I noticed how tense his arm was. I grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Calm down," I murmured. He yanked it away, storming out of the room. I followed as best as I could. People had filled the hallway around us, watching the scene between Christian and his brother, and I fought my way through. I was humiliated by all of the people watching—it looked like the whole school, practically.

"Christian—" I said as I caught up to him under the first year balcony. He spun around, furious.

Christian laughed bitterly. "I don't get it. _Why _is he here? After _everything_, does he really think I want anything to do with him? After my mom died, I had no one. I was 16, and I only had him to rely on. And what did he do? He kicked me out on the streets when I got expelled. I had to live with my friend for a year before he moved away. I slept under a bridge then. Drew's saying I stole things? It's because I had nothing once he kicked me out!"

I had never seen Christian this upset. It was breaking my heart—under the anger, he clearly felt betrayed by someone so close to him. I sat down, tugging on his arm until he did the same. He had his arms crossed on his knees, staring out at the harbor. I mimicked him, pressing close. After several minutes, he started to relax, and I laid my head against his.

After another few minutes, Christian scoffed. "Drew's persistent." He turned to look at me. "He's gona come looking again, he's gona want to talk again."

"And what will you do?"

He looked away, bighting his cheek. "Don't know"

As the sky grew dark we sat there, silent.

Line line line

Slowly, the class left the class, until only Tara and I were left. It looked like she was staying behind to practice.

"Worst. Class. Ever." She groaned. I couldn't blame her—she was amazing at ballet, but she was almost as bad as Abigail at hip hip. I walked over to the drinking fountain.

"Are you staying behind to practice?" I asked, whipping my mouth.

"Yeah. I'm sick of being at the bottom of the list."

"Want some help?" Tara and I were so weird right now; I didn't know what she'd say. Though we were 'friends', I wish we were more. But she's going out with Ethan.

Thankfully, she smiled. "Sure, thanks."

For a few minutes, we worked on the dance we were doing, and already Tara was exhausted. I couldn't help but smirk—I'd barely broke a sweat. I tried working on the solo I had in this dance—a series of flips, mostly.

"Stop showing off!" Tara teased, throwing her ballet slipper at me.

"Want me to show you how to do _that?" _I asked. She's probably just fall flat on her head, but it would be fun to try to show her.

With an half anxious, half excited sigh, she agreed. I put my hands on her waist. "Ok, so just jump up and lean back.." she did, and I lifted Tara onto her feet, turning her in the air and setting her down carefully.

"I don't think that counts.." she laughed.

We spent another ten minutes working on the dance, before we sat down in the corner for a break. While Tara could hardly breathe, I was fine.

"How is this so easy for you?" she asked, irritated.

I gave her a look. "Practice, I guess? You're good in ballet, though." Truthfully, she _was _good, just shy. If she danced the way she did in front of me in class, she'd be top of the list, easily.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile.

_She's with Ethan, _I reminded myself. "We should get back to practice," I said as I got up. I held out my hand to Tara, helping her up.

At once we both noticed someone in the doorway. Confusion was evident in Tara's voice. "Hello?"

Drew.

Fury passed through me. Why was he here? I never wanted to see his face again, and I was pretty sure it was mutual. He missed my hearing last month, too—if Tara hadn't shown up, I would probably be in juvenile detention right now. While I guess it worked out in the end—and had proved to me Tara and I were still friends—I couldn't forgive him.

"Drew?"

"_That's_ Drew?" Tara whispered to me,

"Yes," I sighed. I made no move towards Drew, but continued to glare.

"Hey Christian," Drew smiled. Did he think this was _normal? _It's been a few years since we spoken, he refused to help me, and he thinks its _ok? _

"Yeah. Hi," I snapped. Drew walked in, standing closer.

"So, how are you?"

"Well, I nearly went to jail because I didn't have a decent character reference—I would have if Tara hadn't taken your place—" I tipped his head toward Tara "—because you didn't bother to show up."

"Christian, I was busy—"

"Too busy for your own brother," I scoffed.

"You were going through things, Christian. Getting in fights, stealing…it wasn't good."

I couldn't believe this. "And clearly you didn't care enough to stick around."

Drew was clearly offended. Good. "I have a family to think about—"

"He _is _your family!" Tara blurted out suddenly. I didn't expect her to say anything at all—she's been looking like a scared animal most of this.

"This doesn't involve you, so can you please get out," Drew said, angry. He didn't sound like it was question.

"You can't tell her what to do," I snapped. "Frankly, she has a right to be here, she's done a lot more for me than you ever did."

Drew clearly was trying to relax himself. "So is she your girlfriend?" he asked cheerfully.

My fist clenched. He thinks he can just change the subject, avoid this altogether? All I could think about was punching him right in the face. Before I could, Tara grabbed my wrist tightly.

"Calm down," she murmured. I yanked my arm away, storming out of the room. I knew she was following me, but I didn't care. The crowd that had formed around us parted to let me through without thinking. This was clearly amusing to them.

I walked out of the building, past the food court, Tara constantly getting closer.

"Christian—" she said, catching me under the first year balcony. I spun around, furious.

I laughed bitterly. "I don't get it. _Why _is he here? After _everything_, does he really think I want anything to do with him? After my mum died, I had no one. I was 16, and I only had him to rely on. And what did he do? He kicked me out on the streets when I got expelled. I had to live with my friend for a year before he moved away. I slept under a _bridge_ then. Drew's saying I stole things? It's because I had nothing once he kicked me out!"

I will _never _forgive Drew. He knew the trouble I'd be in if I didn't have a family member saying I was getting better—thankfully, I had enough friends and teachers—but that didn't matter. He thought I'd rub off on his kids. He wouldn't give me a second chance. He _didn't care_. He promised mum he'd take care of me. He broke the promise because I was too much trouble.

Tara sat down, tugging on my arm until I did the same. I crossed my arms on my knees, staring out at the harbor. Tara did the same, pressing close. After several minutes, I started to calm, and she laid her head against mine.

After another few minutes, a thought struck me. "Drew's persistent." I scoffed. "He's gona come looking again, he's gona want to talk again."

"And what will you do?"

I looked away, bighting my cheek. "Don't know"

As the sky grew dark we sat there, silent.

Line line line

"Christian should just be getting out of class, room 234," the headmaster said.

I walked through the hallways, stopping every few doors to read the numbers. At least, room 234 came into view.

Inside, I saw my little brother and a pretty redhead who looked to be the same age.

"Are you staying behind to practice?" Christian looked up from the water fountain, wiping his mouth. He changed so much—if it weren't for his eyes, I probably wouldn't recognize him

"Yeah. I'm sick of being at the bottom of the list." What list? The headmaster mentioned how Christian was top of the 'list' for hip hop as well.

"Want some help?"

"Sure, thanks," she smiled.

_So my little brother's got a girlfriend, _I thought. _Hopefully this one doesn't smoke. _Though she looked like a nice girl—no makeup, nice clothes, and messy hair. For a few minutes, they worked on a dance they must have been learning in class, Christian explaining every move precisely. He became a lot less rude, I noticed. Suddenly, he leapt in the air and started doing flips and tricks.

"Stop showing off!" the redhead laughed, tossing something pink at him.

"Want me to show you how to do _that?" _he asked.

The girl agreed, and Christian held her waist. "Ok, so just jump up and lean back.." she did, and he lifted her up, twisting her in air, setting her down on her feet.

"I don't think that counts.." she laughed.

They spent another ten minutes working on the dance, and I watched, unable to look away. Christian was so different—a lot less rude, and a lot nicer. At least with her, he was. I'd seen his girlfriends before, and they weren't always the best people. She looked different than all of the rest—she was obviously not much of a hip hop dancer, unlike Kaylah. Also, she didn't wear any makeup—any girl Christian hung out with wore makeup. Her clothes looked handmade, and she had natural red hair; Christian's girlfriends never wore homemade clothes, or had natural hair. He was hanging out with better people. He looked _happy. _

My thoughts broke when they both sat down in the corner. The girl looked exhausted, but Christian was fine.

"How is this so easy for you?" she panted.

"Practice, I guess? You're good in ballet, though." _That was nice of him to say_

"Thanks." I couldn't see her face, but I'd guess she was smiling.

"We should get back to practice," Christian said as he got up. He held out his hand to help the girl on her feet.

At once they both noticed me in the doorway. The redhead frowned. "Hello?"

I hadn't seen Christian in so long, I couldn't understand what he was thinking like I used to. But I could tell he wasn't happy to see me—not like I expected less.

"Drew?"

The redhead whispered something to Christian, and he answered, not very happily. He looked so happy just moments ago—why did I make him so upset? It was like, in a split second, he was Old Christian again.

"Hey Christian," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah. Hi," he glared. I walked in, standing closer.

"So, how are you?" hopefully he wasn't too mad. Maybe I could just ignore the elephant in the room.

"Well, I nearly went to jail because I didn't have a decent character reference—I would have if Tara hadn't taken your place—" he tipped his head toward the redhead "—because you didn't bother to show up."

"Christian, I was busy—" Truthfully, I just hadn't wanted to get involved, because I didn't want him near my kids. But he couldn't know that.

"Too busy for your own brother," he scoffed.

I tried not to look upset, though his words hurt. "You were going through things, Christian. Getting in fights, stealing…it wasn't good."

Christian looked away for a moment but responded as soon as I finished. "And clearly you didn't care enough to stick around."

My head jerked back. Of course I cared about my little brother. "I have a family to think about—"

"He _is _your family!" Tara blurted out suddenly. What did this have to do with her? In fact, why was she even here?

"This doesn't involve you, so can you please get out," I said, angry.

"You can't tell her what to do," Christian snapped. "Frankly, she has a right to be here, she's done a lot more for me than you ever did."

I tried to relax and not respond to the insult—which sadly, very well could be true—and change the subject. "So is she your girlfriend?" I asked cheerfully.

Even I could tell he was about to hit me. I backed up a step, ready to leave. Tara grabbed his wrist tightly and whispered something to him as his arm starting to move. He yanked it away, storming out of the room. Silently, I followed.

They walked a while, Tara always a few steps behind. She finally caught up to him under an overhang. Christian spun around, furious.

His voice floated back to me in the echo here. "I don't get it. _Why _is he here? After _everything_, does he really think I want anything to do with him? After my mum died, I had no one. I was 16, and I only had him to rely on. And what did he do? He kicked me out on the streets when I got expelled. I had to live with my friend for a year before he moved away. I slept under a bridge then. Drew's saying I stole things? It's because I had nothing once he kicked me out!"

Though I knew it was all true, I didn't think he should be talking about this with someone outside our family. It was hard to hear his rant—I never wanted to hurt Christian, but I had to think about my own family. _He is your family! _Tara's words stuck in my head. She sat down, tugging on his arm until he did the same. They both had their arms crossed on their knees, staring out at the harbor, heads laid together.

_Even he has a soft side, _I thought. _Certainly for her. _After another few minutes, Christian scoffed. "Drew's persistent." He turned to look at her. "He's gona come looking again, he's gona want to talk again." True.

"And what will you do?"

He looked away, bighting his cheek. "Don't know"

I walked away, unable to hear anymore.

**Christian does NOT smile! He half smiles! Ethan does not smile. He half smiles!**

**LEARN IT!**

**Lmfao, but seriously, Christian never REALLY smiles. He smirks and half smiles. I hate reading people say he smiles. **

**Was this in character? I hope so. Try to imagine it. **

**They JUST started showing this here in the good old USA, land of the rude and home of the lazy, so I've only seen like the fifth episode. Though I wrote the first draft on 3/21/12, who knows when I'll publish it :3 **

**Is it sad that after four years of hip hop, I know nothing?**

**A ballet slipper and a point shoe are DIFFERENT. One is just like thin pleather and the other is a bunch of wood. Lol. **


End file.
